The Article
by WhatVoiceOfReason
Summary: Four perspectives on triles and the newspaper article from Wise Up


**Miles**

I never meant to hurt anyone. Okay, so people always say that right after they fuck everything up. But seriously—I didn't want to hurt anyone—especially not him. In fact, I thought he might even appreciate it. I thought that damn newspaper article would be proof that I _wasn't _using him—that I was ready to go public with our relationship because I wasn't embarrassed and I wasn't scared. I admit, the reason I talked to that reporter _was _to get back at my dad-but I thought Tristan would appreciate it anyway, maybe even see it as a "grand gesture" or whatever.

"You manipulated me," Tristan said, before turning his back towards me.

Of course, it didn't turn out that way.

Winston and Zoe stood in front of him like a shield. I looked at Winston, pleading with him, but he just glared at me, his eyebrows pointed downward, giving me that look of disappointment I'm so used to now.

_There he goes again. The volcano that is Miles Hollingsworth is wreaking his life. _

I tried to look between Winston and Zoe to catch Tristan's eye, but he was staring down at his Algebra notebook with his hand blocking his face.

I walked out of the classroom, my hands shaking so badly that I barely hold my textbook.

**Tristan **

I'd always been able to tell when people had been talking about me. When you're different, you find yourself getting used to the subtle stares, the whispers shared between friends. In fact, you almost come to expect it—that someone, somewhere around you, is making a snarky comment, or calling you an offensive name.

Today was different though. Today, it wasn't one or two people rolling their eyes at my blue patterned pants, or someone nudging their friend and whispering in their ear. It seemed like _everybody_ was staring at me, like everyone was talking about me. And no one was being subtle—everyone was looking right at me, like they were urging me to confront them.

So I did just that. I walked up to a boy I recognized from my English class, who kept staring at his IPhone and then back at me.

"Um, excuse me," I said. The boy looked at me and silently slipped his phone in his back pocket.

"What's the deal?" I asked. The guy gave out a small laugh.

"Nothing man, chill," he said.

"No I will not chill. Why were you staring at me? And what was on your phone?"

He looked at me for a moment, before the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. "You really don't know, do you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well obvi. Why else would I be asking you?"

"Well alright then, I'll tell you…" He took his sweet time stretching out the words, like he was enjoying this power he had over me—this knowledge that he had that I didn't. I wanted to shake him and scream _"Spit it out already" _but I couldn't let myself lose my patience.

"You're just so…I dunno, so easy. You just let people walk all over you. It's kind of hilarious."

"What people," I said quickly, my whole body tightening.

"That rich kid? Hollingsworth? Some article came out saying he's gay and dating you or whatever. Which is bullshit, I mean, he was all over that blonde girl for months. He's obviously using you to piss off his dad."

My legs started to feel weak and shaky, like if I didn't sit down right then, they'd crumble beneath me.

_Of course. I should have known._

I walked away without another word. I passed two more people huddled together. I overhead one of them saying, "There he is…" I started walking faster. I heard another person say, "He's just getting used, _again_."

_I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry._

The stares felt suffocating. I rushed into the classroom as fast as I could.

_Stupid stupid stupid. _I stared down at the desk, blinking away the tears that threatened to start forming.

_Who could ever truly love me, right?_

**Winston**

I was five when I first met Miles. My Mom said she was going to see a friend and thought I might get along well with her friend's son. I remember starting out the car window as we pulled into their driveway, thinking _"This guy lives in a castle!_" and getting excited over the prospect of seeing the dungeon and maybe even a real live dragon. My mom told me there was no dragon, but there was a pool, which was still pretty exciting for a five year old. We walked out to the pool, where Miles' mom was sun tanning. My mom sat me next to Miles and told me to "play nice" before joining Miles' mom.

"Cool toys," I said. He had all the latest action figures and legos and even a racecar track. Miles shrugged. "They're alright, I guess."

"I'm Winston," I said, still looking down at all the toys.

"Miles," he said. Then, out of nowhere, he yelled, "I'm so borrreeeddd."

I stared at him, shocked. "But you have all this cool stuff."

"Whatever, it's bor-ing." All of a sudden, his eyes lit up. "Hey, let's jump in the pool."

"You're crazy!" I said.

"I'm bored," he said back.

"But my mom told us to play out here, with the toys."

"That's boring."

"But we don't even have our swim trunks on."

"So?" Miles said. He jumped up and ran over to the edge of the pool. Before his mom could even look up to see what he was doing, he jumped in with all his clothes on.

"Miles!" his mom screamed, once she heard the splash of water. She ran over and tried to get him out of the pool, but Miles was a pretty good swimmer for a five year old, and he kept swimming away from her, yelling, "You can't catch me, you can't catch me!"—playfully at first, and then almost angrily, as if he really didn't want her to catch him—he didn't want anyone to catch him, to suppress him, to slow him down.

"I'm bored" soon became a caution sign—a warning that Miles was about to do something crazy. "I'm bored" was always followed by "let's jump in the pool" or "let's steal candy from 7-11." Things turned more extreme when we got older. The candy bars he used to steal were replaced by bottles of liqueur. Sometimes I went along with his crazy ideas, but most of the time, I just stood back and watched it unfold.

Sometime during junior high, boredom became less of a problem, and Miles' sole motivation for doing everything was now to piss off his dad. He would start getting caught on purpose. Sometimes I don't think he even wanted to get drunk, or have a party, or steal something—he just wanted to piss off his dad somehow.

Nothing that Miles does surprises me anymore. When you've been best friends with that crazy guy for as long as I have, you start to expect him to jump off a balcony, or ruin a press conference on purpose. I wasn't even surprised when he got kicked out of prep school for starting a fire. When he told me why he got expelled over the phone (he was grounded for weeks afterwards, so I couldn't see him in person), I just thought _there he goes again. _

When I saw him making out with Tristan the first time, I have to admit, I was sort of shocked. But only for a second. This was Miles, after all. I've always expected him to do the unexpected.

When I read the article, I wasn't surprised, I was just angry. I'm not the biggest Tristan fan, but Miles had no right to do that to him, especially after that whole Yates thing. So when Miles came to class, I stood in front of Tristan and protected him. I'm used to Miles' crazy behavior—but I can't always support it.

**Maya **

Zig was the one who told me. He had this weird smile on his face, like he was a second away from bursting out into laughter, or doing cartwheels right in the hallway.

"Did you hear?" he asked.

"Hear what?"

"That rich boy is now _gay _rich boy."

"What?" I asked, cracking a smile. "Are you talking about Miles?" Was this some rubber room inside joke I wasn't picking up on?

"Yep," he said, with a big, goofy grin. He handed me a newspaper, and sure enough, there it was in black-and-white:

Hollingsworth Son Outs Dad as Homophobe

Miles Hollingsworth Jr.'s campaign claims to support people off all races, religions, and sexual orientations, but his son, Miles Hollingsworth lll, says that this is not the case. "My dad said that 'being gay is ridiculous' when I told him that I had a boyfriend" Miles says. Miles has been dating his boyfriend, Tristan Milligan, for a few weeks now and wishes his dad would take his relationship seriously. "I just wanted to be out, like my boyfriend is, but apparently that's not okay with my dad. I'm just a disappointment to him."

I stopped reading after the first paragraph. I can't exactly describe how I felt when I read that article. I was angry, because I felt like Miles was doing this just to get back at me, but more than that, I was concerned. I had been with Miles long enough to know that when he does something impulsive and unexpected like this, there's usually something that's bothering him that he doesn't want to deal with.

"Are you coming?" Zig asked.

"Huh?"

"The bell just rang." He looked at me a little closer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine…I'm just…" I held up the newspaper.

"Oh…" Zig scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe I shouldn't have shown you…"

"No, it's fine." I forced a smile. "I'll meet you in a second, okay? I just gotta ask a teacher about something."

"Okay." He started walking away, but then turned around. "You sure?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

I just hoped Miles was.

Thanks for reading! I hope the rapid change in POV wasn't too confusing. I think the tense got a little messed up at some points, so sorry about that. The Winston POV was inspired by "The Wingman" by Amethyst Beloved, btw :)

I kind of what to write more fics like this, so if you'd like to suggest a certain scene and POV for me to write then "go ahead"_ :)_


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